


if you wanna be my lover

by the_one_that_fell



Series: OMGCP Rare Pair Hell [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Getting Together, Ghosts, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8289283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: He opened his eyes, vision blurred with fatigue, and saw someone lying on the bed across from him.

  “Boo?” The girl said, more of a laugh than a word.

  With an embarrassingly shrill scream, Ransom fell from his bunk.
 Or, Bitty hears Ransom screaming at an ungodly hour and somehow it leads to romance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be writing BittyRans fluff with Wannabe as a central theme- well, I would've asked "who the flying fuck are Bitty and Ransom?" but I also very much would not have believed you. 
> 
> Ah, how things change.

It had been a week since Ransom had walked in on Holster and Jack boning and he couldn't sleep. 

He wasn't actually sure the two were connected. It has been two weeks since Jack and Holster came out to him, and, despite popular belief, he wasn't actually in love with Holster. Did he have a moderately sized crush on him? Sure, who didn't have a some sort of feelings for their best friend? Did he and Holster hook up on the reg most of freshman year? Hell  _ yeah _ they did. Would he ever be able to erase the memory of Jack Zimmermann’s dick in his best friend’s mouth? Probably not. 

But that wasn't what has awoken him tonight, though it certainly liked to stay at the forefront of his mind. No, tonight was plagued by the Spice Girls. 

For a while he thought the music was coming from Bitty’s room, but Bitty has scoffed at him for thinking he would listen to anything from the 90s that wasn't Destiny’s Child. Shitty denied playing music after 10 PM, Jack didn't listen to anything recorded after 1983, and there was certainly no way it could be coming from the  _ LAX  _ bros. They’d made their taste (and distaste) in music pretty clear. 

By process of elimination, Ransom knew there could only be one logical explanation for  _ Wannabe _ plaguing him at this hour - the ghosts whose existence he vehemently denied. 

A month ago, Ransom would have crawled into Holster’s bunk and let himself be cuddled until he fell asleep. But Holster was a whole floor away tonight, probably not sleeping at all in Jack’s room, so Ransom was on his own. 

Ransom sighed and turned over, willing himself to block out the music. It was just Bitty. It was just Shitty. Or maybe even it was just the music Holster played to cover up his obnoxious sex noises. It was  _ just music.  _

He opened his eyes, vision blurred with fatigue, and saw someone lying on the bed across from him. 

“Boo?” The girl said, more of a laugh than a word. Ransom’s heart stopped for a second. 

“Holy  _ shit!”  _ He scrambled back, momentum tipping him over the rail of his bunk. With an embarrassingly shrill scream, Ransom fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. 

The music stopped and Ransom heard faint giggling, then the light  _ slap slap slap _ of feet on the stairs to the attic.  _ Great _ , he thought fuzzily.  _ Someone gets to watch as I die here.  _

“Ransom? Goodness gracious, are you okay?” 

Well, at least it wasn't mid-coitus Holster coming to his aid. Ransom wasn't sure he could handle that level of mortification. 

“Ransom, sweetheart, are you okay? Say something.” Bitty crouched down next to him, gingerly touching his shoulder. “Honey?” 

“M’fine, Bits,” Ransom muttered, face pressed into the floorboards. “Leave me to die in shame.” 

“Sweetheart, c’mon, I'm not gonna let you sleep on the floor without checking you out first.” Ransom heard Bitty’s little  _ meep! _ of a gasp when he realized the double meaning of his words. “I mean-! I want to make sure you’re fine- I mean-!” 

Ransom sat up, laughing at the dark blush on Bitty’s cheeks. It was super cute, and made Ransom wonder where else Bitty could blush. “You can check me out all you want, Bits.” 

“Oh,  _ hush, _ ” Bitty said, trying to hide his smile behind a glare. He brushed a finger across Ransom’s brow, frowning. “Darlin’, you're bleeding.” 

That would explain the sharp pain in Ransom’s head and the warmth trickling down his temple. “Ah, shit. Oh, well.” 

Bitty rolled his eyes and muttered, “Hockey players,” before rising and pulling Ransom to his feet.

“Let's get you patched up,” Bitty said, tugging on Ransom’s hand. “And you can tell me all about how managed to fall outta your bunk.” 

With a put-upon sigh and endeared grin, Ransom let himself be led down the stairs to the second floor. He was so wrapped up in the feeling of Bitty’s small, calloused hand in his that Ransom almost didn't hear the  _ unmistakable  _ noises coming from Jack’s room. 

Bitty’s cheek had gone pink again, or maybe they had never cooled down. Ransom raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a laugh. 

Bitty sighed as he pulled Ransom into their shared bathroom. “They, uh, told me this morning. I didn't realize my little crush on Jack had been so noticeable.”

“What?” This was the first Ransom was hearing of any of this. 

Bitty forced him down onto the edge of the tub, then busied himself digging through the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit. “They felt like they had to ‘let me down easy,’” Bitty said with a sigh. “It's not like- I mean, I thought Jack was straight. I never let anything grow past a little crush, you know?” 

There was a sadness - a  _ shame _ \- in Bitty’s face that broke Ransom’s heart. He reached out and squeezed Bitty’s hand. “Well, it wasn't obvious to me,” he said softly. “And at least that talk was  _ all _ you experienced.” 

Bitty’s brows furrowed in confusion, then shot up when he grasped Ransom’s meaning. “Did you-? Oh!” He clasped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “Oh, gosh.”

Ransom grinned up at him. “I never thought I’d ever see Jack Zimmermann’s o-face, but I guess dreams really  _ do _ come true.” 

That startled a sharp laugh out of Bitty. He pressed his lips together tightly and pulled the Neosporin from the little plastic box. 

“You're ridiculous,” he told Ransom, wiping at Ransom’s head with a damp washcloth. “Do you think it's serious? Surely they wouldn't have told  _ me _ if it wasn't.”

“Bits,” Ransom said, frowning a little. Bitty didn't look down at him as he dabbed Neosporin onto his cut. “You're one of their best friends.”

“That doesn't mean they should tell me such a big secret,” Bitty said softly. “And it  _ is _ a big, huge, monumental secret, isn't it? With Jack going to the NHL next year?”

Bitty turned away to unwrap a bandaid. “I think of any of their friends,” Ransom said slowly, leaning his elbows against his knees. “You’re the one they'd trust the most to keep that secret.” 

Bitty whipped around, an absolutely devastated look on his face. “Rans, no, that’d be  _ you _ . I’m just...I'm just  _ me.”  _

That made Ransom snort with disbelief. “Uh, you mean, a super cool dude who loves us all a whole bunch and is fiercely protective of his friends and would never, ever let something slip  _ ever _ ?” Ransom looked up at Bitty. Bitty pointedly did not return his gaze, wiping at his eyes. 

When Bitty finally spoke, his voice was shaky and small. “Let me just get this bandaid on there and then you can tell me all about your nasty li’l spill, okay?” 

Ransom nodded, letting Bitty smooth out the bandage across his forehead. “You know the ghosts in the attic that definitely do not exist?” 

That pulled a laugh from Bitty, and he stepped back with a smile so blinding that Ransom’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, I am quite aware of the Haus ghosts who are in no way real.” 

“Well, they decided to bunk with me tonight,” Ransom said, sounding much more calm about it than he actually felt. “And it, uh, startled me?” 

Bitty snorted. “Yeah, that unholy scream I heard was... _ startled _ .” 

“Rude, Bits. I'm wounded,” Ransom said, clutching at his chest. 

“I'm aware. I  _ did _ just bandage you up,” Bitty deadpanned, shoving the first aid kit back into the medicine cabinet. 

Ransom laughed and reached out to grab Bitty’s hips, pulling him back over. Bitty stumbled closer, surprised, but not unwilling when Ransom wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Usually when the not-ghosts are acting up,” Ransom murmured against Bitty’s chest. “I bunk with Holster. But, uh...yeah…” 

Bitty hands brushed across the top of his head, ghosting down the back of his neck. Ransom shivered and buried his nose deeper into Bitty’s shirt, breathing in the scent of fabric softener and vanilla extract and Old Spice. 

“You could…” Bitty whispered, one hand slipping down to run at Ransom’s shoulder. “You could bunk with me? If you want?” 

Ransom looked up at Bitty, loosening his grip only a little. “Really?”

Bitty smiled sadly. “Hun, I don't know if it's from the cold or if them ghosts really got you good, but you've been shakin’ like a leaf since we came down here. ‘Course you can stay with me tonight.” 

“Thanks,” Ransom muttered, resting his cheek back against Bitty’s chest. “It's been a long week.” 

“You and Holtzy talk about it yet?” Bitty asked. 

“Not really,” Ransom said with a shrug. “I had to apologize, like, a million times, plus I had to get the whole ‘no one can know about this’ speech,  _ plus  _ I had to get the ‘please don't mention anything to my mom because I haven't told her I'm bi yet’ thing from Holster. There hasn't been much free time for the ‘so you're dating Jack Zimmermann’ talk.” 

Bitty pulled back to take Ransom’s hands. “I'm sure you'll both feel a lot better once you have that talk. And  _ then _ you can get the  _ deets _ .” Bitty’s eyes sparkled with mirth and Ransom was struck by how much he wanted to kiss him. 

“I know you're chirping me,” Ransom said, standing slowly. “But you have to admit you're a  _ little _ curious. I mean, imagine it.” 

Bitty looked away, biting his bottom lip. Ransom didn't have to imagine anything - he'd seen Holster on his knees, glasses askew, Jack’s hand threaded through his hair. He'd seen Jack with his head thrown back, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. It had been a mortifying sight at the time, but when he replayed it now in his mind…

“Hush,” Bitty said, breaking through Ransom’s thoughts. “That's no one’s business but theirs.” 

Ransom pouted. “Aw, Bits.” 

“You're very whiney when you're tired,” Bitty said, taking Ransom’s hand. “Let's go to bed.” 

The sounds from Jack’s room had quieted while they were in the bathroom, though a soft murmuring could just barely be heard from under the door. 

Bitty and Ransom slipped into Bitty’s room, tumbling into the bed one right after the other. The covers were on the ground, probably where Bitty had thrown them when he raced out of bed to check on Ransom. Ransom scooped them up to throw over him and Bitty when something small and brown fell onto his lap. 

“And  _ who _ is  _ this _ ?” He asked, holding up the stuffed rabbit. Bitty snatched at it, face crumpled with embarrassment. 

“Señor Bunny,” he murmured, holding the rabbit close to his chest. “No chirping or I'll kick you out.” 

Ransom felt his smirk soften and he reached out to play with one of Señor Bunny’s ears. “Bits, I would  _ never.  _ He's cute.” 

Bitty smiled softly and set Señor Bunny on his window sill. “Three’s a crowd,” he whispered with a shrug. “Plus Bun likes to watch the snow.”

And it  _ had  _ begun to snow. Ransom hadn't noticed before, didn't sleep facing the attic window. It was peaceful, fat flakes drifting down quietly, illuminated by only the streetlights. His eyes felt heavier as he watched, and Ransom snuggled back against one of Bitty’s pillows, warm and content. 

Bitty left a good six inches between them as he settled down, but Ransom slung an arm over Bitty’s waist and pulled him closer. 

“I hope they're happy,” Bitty murmured, tucking his head under Ransom’s chin. “They seem...they seem good together.” 

Ransom hummed in agreement. “They balance each other out. Mostly. They're still the two crankiest bastards I know for sure.”

Bitty laughed, the vibrations of his chest shaking Ransom to the core. “Can you imagine Holster with the other WAGs? Give it a week and they'd all be quoting 30 Rock.”

Ransom giggled at the thought. “He'd try to get his own spin-off of that  _ WAGs _ show. You know how much he loves reality TV.” 

Bitty snorted. “He's been trying to convince me to throw a glass of wine in his face during some staged argument for the past year now. We don't even keep wine in the Haus! He said he'd buy some for that specific reason!” 

Ransom laughed, running his hand up the back of Bitty’s neck. The hair that had been shaved there had grown back some, short and prickly. Ransom rubbed his fingers through it, pride surging through him as Bitty practically melted at the touch. 

“What did the ghost look like?” Bitty asked, voice thick with sleep. “The one that scared you and also doesn't exist.” 

“She was blonde,” Ransom said, settling his other hand on the small of Bitty’s back. Bitty arched into the touch a little, stretching out his spine like a cat. “Hoops earrings, a lot of eyeliner. Translucent.” 

“The Haus was a sorority in the 90s, right?” Bitty asked around a yawn. “Creepy.” He nuzzled up against Ransom’s neck, then asked, “Is that why you were playing Spice Girls?” 

Ransom tensed for a moment, but was too comfortable to freak out too much. “You could hear it too?” 

Bitty nodded under Ransom’s chin. “ _ So tell me watcha want, watcha really, really want-” _

Ransom chimed in with a laugh, “ _ I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.” _

“Maybe the ghosts really just wanted to know what you want,” Bitty said, pulling back so Ransom could see his dark, searching eyes half-veiled by golden-brown eyelashes. 

“Maybe,” he murmured and ran a hand through Bitty’s hair. “I never really thought about it that way…”

The first touch of their lips was soft and hesitant. Bitty was trembling a little, but he relaxed when Ransom cupped his cheek. Was this Bitty’s first kiss? Ransom had set him up on two different Winter Screw dates, but neither seemed to have panned out. Ransom had his first kiss with a girl when he was fourteen, but it was different with guys. He'd kissed Holster when they were eighteen, and went on a real date with Will Carter when he was twenty. Romantic and sexual pacing was different for everyone, he knew, but especially when you were closeted and confused. 

Bitty deepened the second kiss, and  _ yeah  _ this was his first time for sure. Bitty lapped into his mouth, almost like a little kitten, which was hella endearing but also really awkward. 

“Nah, man, like this,” he whispered, and slowly shifted their lips together, sucking on Bitty’s tongue for just a second, then tugged gently on Bitty’s bottom lip with his teeth. He could feel Bitty shudder against him. 

“Gosh, you're good at that,” Bitty said hoarsely. There was a little bit of uncertainty in his tone, so Ransom pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Practice,” he said simply. “You should've heard Holster the first time we made out. ‘Why are you trying to lick my tonsils, man? You're gonna trigger my gag reflex.  _ Chill _ .’”

Bitty laughed, soft and bright, and ran his fingers over Ransom’s cheek. “There's definitely a story there that I wanna hear.”

“Not tonight,” Ransom said with a shake of his head. “Maybe tomorrow, over coffee?” 

Bitty smiled and nodded. “I'd like that- but…”

Ransom’s heart plummeted into his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd been rejected while  _ in bed _ with someone. “But?”

Bitty shrugged sadly. “I just...I guess I don't really want to be a rebound, you know?” 

“What?” Ransom raised an eyebrow, completely thrown. “Who's rebounding? I thought  _ you _ were rebounding?” 

“What? From Jack? No, I told you, it was just a little crush, I never-” Bitty huffed, frowning. “I never let it get past that. I never let my crush on  _ you _ get past that either, until...until now...but if you're getting over Holster…”

“No!” Ransom said a little too loud. “I mean...no, I mean  _ no.  _ I'm not getting over Holster, we’re  _ bros.  _ Bros with benefits for a while, but just bros. He’s been mega-pining over Jack since we were Frogs. It wasn't a total surprise, really, them getting together.” 

“Oh.” Bitty cocked his head and looked Ransom over, maybe looking for a sign that he was lying or in denial. When he didn't find what he was searching for, Bitty smiled. “We could do Jerry’s brunch in the morning?”

“Jerry’s has brunch?” Ransom asked around a yawn. Bitty pulled back, pale, looking like Ransom had just murdered a puppy in front of him. 

“Yes,” Bitty said slowly, like he wasn't sure Ransom was processing his words. “Have you really never heard Holster rant about ‘JBrizzle?’”

“No?” In truth, Ransom had learned to tune out Holster’s rants and listen only for specific keywords, like “Coach,” “failed,” and “ _ Jack fucking Zimmermann. _ ” 

Bitty sat up so fast he almost clocked Ransom in the face. With a fiery look of determination, he loomed over Ransom and clutched his shoulders. “Honey, your whole life is about to  _ change drastically.” _

“Okay?” Ransom laughed at the near-manic glint in Bitty’s eyes. Instead of asking what was so damn special about JBrizzle, he leaned up to peck Bitty’s lips. The severity on Bitty’s face melted away and he smiled dopily down at Ransom, letting himself be manhandled into a cuddle, head on Ransom’s chest. 

“Get some sleep, Bits,” Ransom murmured. 

“Gotta have all my strength to blow your mind tomorrow,” Bitty said drowsily. “Like, with JBrizzle-  _ stop laughing, you know what I meant _ .” 

“Goodnight,” Ransom said, kissing the top of Bitty’s head. “Sleep tight.” 

“Night, sugar,” Bitty breathed, eyes fluttering closed. He was asleep almost instantly. 

Ransom stayed awake for a while after, watching the steady rise and fall of Bitty’s breathing. He snored a little, almost like purring, and Ransom wondered idly what other adorable noises he made in less adorable situations. 

As he drifted off, Ransom could've sworn he heard giggling, but the only person sharing this bed with him was Bitty, so Ransom let it go. 

In the morning, as he brushed his teeth, someone grabbed his butt. He whirled around, prepared to see the ghosts that were not real, but instead he found Bitty, laughing softly, haired mussed, sleep shirt dangerously close to slipping off one shoulder. 

They made it to Jerry’s brunch eventually. 

_ Eventually _ .

 

* * *

_ One year later _

 

“Are you serious? We’ve lived together for three years, Rans, how did  _ Jack _ know about JBrizzle before you?” 

Ransom picked his head up from Bitty’s shoulder, not nearly enough coffee in his system to have this conversation. Across from him, Lardo and Jack were having one of their non-verbal eyebrow conversations and Shitty was chugging coffee and ranting to no one about overpriced coffee shops with shitty brunch in Cambridge. 

“I guess only Bitty ever loved me enough to bring me here,” Ransom replied haughtily, pressing a loud kiss to Bitty’s temple. Holster mimed gagging and Jack muffled a laugh behind his hand. 

“I guess  _ you  _ didn't love  _ me _ enough to listen to me  _ ever _ ,” Holster retorted. “Rock Lord over here knew about Jerry’s brunch years ago.” 

“Because the two of you ended up here after Screw our freshman year,” Ransom said calmly, smiling as Bitty squeezed his thigh absentmindedly, too caught up in the recent menu changes to listen to the argument. “Because  _ you _ were still drunk at ten in the morning and Jack was afraid you'd  _ die _ if he didn't help you sop up the alcohol in your system.” 

Holster grinned and leaned heavily against Jack’s side. “My hero,” he said in a ridiculous falsetto, batting his eyelashes. Jack rolled his eyes but squeezed Holster’s hand under the table. 

“Ooh, honey, they have a new eggs benedict, with a  _ tomato pesto _ , gosh.” He looked up, ignoring Ransom’s fond grin. “Jack, sweetheart, you like the normal eggs benedict, right?”

Jack looked sheepish. “Not if my nutritionist asks.”

“Unhelpful, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty huffed. “And I'll have you know that Nadia is  _ very _ understanding once you get talkin’ to her-” 

“Bits, did you  _ befriend _ the Falconers’ nutritionist?” Holster asked with a laugh. “You're so southern, you can literally make friends with anyone, can't you?” 

Bitty rolled his eyes. “I'm not the one who's Facebook friends with literally every Samwell student. Jack asked me to help him with his day-to-day cooking, so of  _ course _ I talked to his nutritionist, and she turned out to be a very lovely lady-” 

“-who's got serious connections and wants to collaborate with Bitty on a cookbook,” Ransom finished. Both Shitty and Holster seemed surprised by this news. 

“Seriously, Bits?” Holster asked with a grin. “Does that mean you'd move to Providence after graduation?” 

Bitty shrugged. “That's two years from now, I don't really know. I wouldn't be opposed,” he said with a shrug. “It'd be nice to know someone in a new city. Or  _ someones _ ,” he added, emphasizing the “s” and casting a pointed look at Holster. “But there are a lot of factors in play.” 

“Hey Rans,” Holster said a little too loudly. “Aren't you applying to Brown’s med school?” 

Ransom chuckled as Bitty’s face turned pink. “Like he said, man. Factors.” He took a long sip of coffee, ignoring Holster’s high-pitched squeal. 

“What if we all, just, like, ended up in Rhode Island?” Lardo mused. “I mean, not Shitty, ‘cause he's Harvard’s bitch for the next three years, but, like. Haus 2.0. Imagine it.”

Holster slammed his hands down on the table. “Babe, you gotta buy us a house.” 

Jack chuckled softly. “If that's really what you want. As long as Bittle doesn't sing Justin Bieber before 9 AM.” 

“That was  _ one time _ and it was  _ Beyonce _ you heathen!” Bitty hissed, throwing a packet of sugar at Jack’s face. “And, I love you all, but Rans is literally the only one of you who I'd ever want to live with ever again.”

“Aww, Bits,” Ransom said, slinging his arm around Bitty’s neck. “Love you, too.”

Bitty leaned over to kiss him and Ransom noticed the longing looks on Holster’s and Jack’s faces. He pulled back, a little guilty that he could have this open sort of intimacy with Bitty and they...couldn't. 

“I love all you motherfuckers,” Shitty said as their waitress arrived with mimosas. “But if you all leave me for  _ Rhode Island _ then I'm never ever bailing any of you out of jail.” 

Lardo hummed into her cup. “I guess it's a good thing I'm looking at jobs in Boston then, huh?” 

Without warning, Shitty wrapped himself around Lardo, pressing messy kisses to the side of her face. “Gross, get off you  _ goon _ ,” she muttered, unable to hide her smile. “Such a weirdo creeper.” 

“Can we  _ not  _ talk about graduation?” Bitty asked sadly. “I really can't handle the idea of being the only senior in the Haus.” 

“I mean, we could give our dibs to Ollie and Wicks if you  _ want, _ ” Holster said, winking at Ransom. 

“No!” Bitty said quickly, shaking his head. “I need Dex in-Haus, the place is  _ falling down _ .”

“You just need your Frog-children all in one place,” Lardo said with a grin. “If you're nice to me, I'll give my dibs to Tango instead of Whiskey. One more child for you mother.”

“Okay, I do not  _ mother _ Tango and can we  _ please not talk about next year?” _ Bitty frowned at the drink Jack had passed him, staring into the orange juice like it held the answers to all his problems. “I'm really gonna miss you guys.”

“Bits.” Ransom kissed his head, pulling him close. “Look at us all right now, we haven't been able to get rid of these two-” He gestured between Jack and Shitty. “So why do you think you'll be able to get rid of  _ us? _ ”

Bitty laughed brightly at the look of indignation on the alumni’s faces. “Alright, but all’ve y’all gotta promise me you'll be back as often as you can.”

Everyone made solemn vows to crash at the Haus at least once a month, and Ransom kissed Bitty’s cheek and told him they'd see each other every weekend. 

“Are you ready to order?” Their waitress asked, looking at them expectantly. Ransom nodded at her and squeezed Bitty’s waist. 

“ _Let me tell you want I want…_ ” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't intend for the group brunch at the end to be anything more than a happy epilogue paragraph. But OOPS i really ship jackholtz too so.....hope you enjoyed!
> 
> on tumblr @ [eve-baird](http://www.eve-baird.tumblr.com)


End file.
